The Master of the Theatre
by CassandraRoyal
Summary: They say that Sasori Akasuna disappeared the night that would make him the greatest performer of all time. Everyone that knew him pretends that he never existed. Everyone believes the rumors, but Sakura Haruno refuses to believe such nonsense. If only she had believed them, then maybe she wouldn't have apart of his next grand performance, and his only desire. -Phantom of the Opera
1. Overture

**The Master of the Theatre**

**The Master of the Theatre**

**Act 1**

**Overture**

**_A _**_thought. A mere thought. It had come to his mind so quickly that it was barely even comprehensible until his eyes found what he had been seeking for years. A time. A place. A role. A love. A girl. Yes, this would work._

_Above the lights, above nearly the whole auditorium was where he was. A shadow was what had been captivating himself in for all these years. They thought he disappeared, and in some cases it was entirely true, others, the upmost opposite. They thought that he was dead; oh how wrong were they to believe such a notion, he's never felt better. He's never been so motivated, so engrossed than when his amber eyes rested upon the thing he had begun to love so wondrously. _

_A love. A twisted and deranged love had passed through him. One of obsession and desire, and yet he didn't want to hurt the very thing he loved. He wanted to preserve it, but not like his puppets, no, something else entirely. He would love unfathomably, and forever. A love at first sight, no less. A night of time that had passed only moments before in his line of vision. _

_Uncannily beautiful, naturally lengthened pink locks that laid so perfectly straight and swayed mystically, is what he first saw. Then the emerald irises that were filled with a certain fire that could be uncovered so simplicity for any mere simpleton to find. The milkily white skin, unblemished by the ugly world. He could imagine that they were the softest thing too. A smile that lit up the world from it's darkened state of distress. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen._

_He would never hurt her, he knew. No matter how terrible some may be so convinced he was, he was no such thing; at least not to something so pure. To taint something bright and filled with light was a sin that was never to be even considered by anyone. No, if he was forced to, he wouldn't even touch her mere hand, unless of course it became allowed to him from her consent only. _

_He could see that she had noticed him, for she was suddenly startled; her eyes widened considerably. This pinkette's emeralds found his untraceable form from within the shadows, but from what he could see of her, she was unable to define anything specific. The companions he knew so well, asked her something, probably wondering just what had caught her eyes with a sudden fear. It was time for him to disappear from her vision, it seemed._

_They had never found him that night, five years ago, when he had only been eighteen, and his friends only seventeen through twenty-one had witnessed his disappearance first hand, among many others. They don't know why he left, and how all his puppets remain, except for two that he kept secret from the world. He had only told one other person of them, and that person knew never to speak of them to anyone. The person would never betray him even if that person wanted him to return to the stage and into the other's lives. Thing was though, he had finally found a legitimate reason to return, however, only in time._

_He knew that whomever had threatened him before into leaving would return to kill him this time around. This time though, he would be ready. He would teach the way of silence to the girl that had ensnared him so unrealistically. The only variable that was left unsaid and completely unknown was her actions and thoughts on all of this, and he knew that it would be the most important variable of them all, for she was the deciding factor in his next grand for him, he knew the ways of manipulation all too well to let something upsetting to occur yet again._

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Sakura Haruno stared up at the Dawning Theatre House in complete awe. It rivaled the Sydney Opera House in size and notoriety these days. Only the most amazing of acts, operas, actors, actresses, singers, and plays were even allowed entrance into the grand building.

From what she knew, the place had been constructed about seven years ago from a man named Yahiko Dawn, and his best friends, Konan Blue, and Nagato Ame. Apparently they were all in love with the idea of constructing the greatest theatre-house in the world, and they had done just that. They had brought the greatest performers and plays into the Theatre House, and had become infamous almost instantaneously. Now everyone wanted a piece of what it could bring for the performers that played there. And that, was exactly why she had come all the way to Konoha, Washington for.

She had worked alongside Itachi Uchiha a few years prior personally, and everyone knew that they did amazing work together. She also had come to befriend his little brother whom was also a famous musician with a godly smooth voice that made girls swoon to him wherever he went.

She on the other hand, could do it all. She was a widespread known pianist, violinist, singer, and actress. Those were the one's that people most knew of though, for she could do much more than simply that. However, the reason she had come here, was to play her violin, and show off her talent. She was the lead here, for the next two weeks. There was something else to, she wanted to become a full fledged member here.

The most common leads and music players of the Theatre House happened to be world known. They were known as the Akatsuki, the best all-arounds in show business for the past seven years. From what Sakura could recall, the famous _Puppet Master_, Sasori Akasuna had been apart of that outstanding group of individuals, but no one knows just where he went. People say he disappeared out of thin air, and that he was a deranged psychotic. She didn't believe any of it though.

"Miss Sakura, un!"

Sakura looked behind her to notice a man with long blonde hair, racing up to her frantically. He looked rather ruffled, as if it had been a long way to get here in such a short timeframe. Sakura could understand that well though, for the Theatre House was right beside the ocean, on the very edge of the downtown districts.

Sakura smiled at him warmly when he was in front of her. "You must be Mr. Iwa," She said, pulling a hand up toward him.

"Just Deidara, please, yeah," He replied sheepishly, while shaking her hand. Then he asked her, "Are you ready for the tour? It's kinda busy at the moment, everyone is getting ready for the performance this week, un."

She nodded happily. "I've been wanting to play here for years."

He grinned at her, while they walked inside the grand room. Everything was just how she could remember from pictures, but as her eyes laid themselves onto golden painted staircase that glinted amazingly from the countless light-sources. A large chandelier rose above the main floor, its glass crystals shining magnificently. Two hallways split the theatre in half, one carrying left, the other, right. She could only imagine the auditorium that awaited her, straight ahead and up that staircase.

As people scuffled around the ever-flowing groups of performers and artists, the duo weaved throughout the area, trying their hardest not to get separated. But try as they might, there was simply too many people, and soon enough Sakura found herself trapped within a group of ballerinas with bright orange costumes.

"Oh you simply must be joking," Sakura huffed under her breath. Before she knew it, she found herself in one of the entrance hallways with the many gossiping ballerinas. The carpets, colors, and wallpapers were as if she were in a castle of a fairytale, and Sakura found it quite lovely despite the hustle and bustle. Then, as her orbs laid upon an opened, vacant room, she found herself transfixed, unable to look away from a certain portrait.

She began to walk away from the group, and all that she could hear was this wispy sound, as it there was wind inside the theatre house. There was no muffled voices in her line of hearing, no, just that mere sound, as if it had wanted her to find it's source more than anything else.

The sound stopped as she neared the room, the only sounds around were the voices of impatient theatre-girls in the distance. She must have walked quite far for her to barely hear anyone. Was this a different section of the theatre or something? Why was no one around? Sakura found it almost discomforting.

Paintings scattered around the walls, telling of past performers that had walked these very halls only years or months before. The painting that had captured her was laid right in the dead center of the far end wall, as if that person had been very important to the theatre house and its sudden rise from anonymity to notoriety. She could imagine this person had helped considerably, since she herself knew exactly who he was. Sasori Akasuna. Why had this painting come to her liking? She had never really, in a word, _cared_ for his performances, but that wasn't to say what he had done in his time on the stage wasn't jaw-dropping. She had to admit that what he could accomplish was indeed masterful, there was simply no way around that. No one could deny such obviousness, unless that person be an utter fool.

She studied the painting in front of her, curious. His face was turned slightly upward, the light catching his face perfectly. His scarlet red hair seemed to high-light partially because of the sudden light-source that shined upon it, but it was his eyes that really sent Sakura into wonder. Those amber irises. One was covered in light, making it seem as if it was a bit more dull and lifeless than the other, who was basking in the shade of his locks, creating more depth and darkness. It was a dark beauty, Sakura knew, one that has had a taste of just what a void of black feels like.

"Some say that he still lives."

Sakura took in a breath, before she turned on her heel fast enough to give herself a headache. Her heart raced wildly for being so startled. She stared wide eyed at the man that was now before her, his dark obsidian eyes, and long black hair gave her enough comfort to breath a large sigh of relief. Her eyes close for a minute, letting her heart rest, before she set her gaze at him with a warm smile.

"Hello Itachi," Sakura greeted, putting a lock of pink behind her ear. "Long time no see."

He smiled. Sakura took in the black swallowtail tux and trousers, rather surprised at the getup. She was rather used to him being dressed up whenever they met up before a performance or something akin to that, but this certain outfit was as if he was from another time period, long ago. Sakura found herself rather wistful after that thought.

Then he replied, "As to you, Sakura."

He walked up beside her, his hands behind his back. His natural grace was always a treat that she adored, and wished she herself had. It was so perfected too. Itachi always did have that certain mysteriousness air about him as well, for even his footsteps were incoherent to her ears.

Sakura watched as his eyes trailed to the painting ahead of them. The normality of his features returned to their impassiveness, practically blank, seemingly uncaring, unless someone knew him personally like she did. The expression was not blank nor uncaring, simply calculating, yet at the same time rather warm compared to others of his nature. From what she had heard, Sasori had that feature, but was more cold in comparison to Itachi.

"Some still believe that Sasori is the ghost of the theatre. The _Master_ of the theatre," Itachi explained. There was a certain distain as he spoke, that she didn't understand. Had he been Sasori's friend in the past, or did he only find the rumors to be idiotic like she did? Sakura didn't know.

Sakura quirked a brow at the thought of a ghost in the theatre-house, her previous thoughts dismissed completely. "Ghost?" She repeated. "Thats kinda strange to think of, is it not?"

His eyes met hers. There was something there for a second. A flicker of the past, before it was gone. He shrugged uncaringly then, before the flicker was gone, lost in his eyes to a memory that he obviously didn't want to remember again. "More publicity, I suppose."

Sakura faked a smile. This was obviously not a topic that he wanted to continue, but then again, he had been the one to start it in the first place. So, why had he done it? She looked back at the painting of Sasori on the stage, his stage being the place of his one and only graceland. She could understand that completely.

"Would you like to go onto the stage now?" Itachi asked, breaking her thoughts as her eyes went up to meet his once again. This time she not only smiled, but it grew into a wide grin.

Then she conceded happily, "I've been waiting for this moment for seven years."

"Well, then," He said, showing her an arm for him to escort her. "Let's not keep you waiting."

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"Have you seen her? Sakura Haruno I mean! I lost her on the way here! Oh, un! What am I going to do? This theatre is huge, yeah!"

Sakura watched with undeniable amusement as Deidara ranted worried to whom she knew as Hidan Focker, who was trying to block his ears with his fingertips, clearly getting more and more annoyed as time passed.

"SHUT THE FUCKING HELL UP!" Hidan bellowed at the blonde, who cringed at the sudden deafening bellow that was aimed right at him. Hidan growled at Deidara loathingly, his face contorted into a terrible scowl.

Everyone stopped and stared at the duo, and even Itachi lowered his eyes slightly in disdain. The quiet that enraptured around the area was terrible, and Sakura watched as Deidara looked around worriedly, and Hidan irritatedly. Then Hidan threw up his arms, before storming off the stage. People watched as he disappeared around a corner before everything began to set into motion again. The silence was broken, and the movement of the area was in full force. Sakura figured that outbursts from Hidan must be pretty often.

Then in Deidara's complete worrisome mess, his lone blue eye set on her form and Itachi. She could plainly see the pure relief, even his shoulders sagged at the sudden release of tension.

He quickly walked over to them in the middle of the stage. He looked down to Sakura, his brows knitted together slightly. "I'm so glad you found Itachi on your way up here, un. I'm sorry about before though, yeah."

Sakura waved at him dismissively, before she smiled at him. "It's alright Deidara. Although I'm probably going to need a map to find my way around this place."

Deidara grinned down at her, before he bowed like a gentlemen of a storybook. "It shall be done with post haste, my lady."

Sakura giggled at his antics, before she removed her arm from Itachi. She curtsied low, before a flash went by her vision, and her head snapped up. Confusion set in, before her gaze was met with a certain shadow on the top of the rounded ceiling. Horror swept throughout her, and she knew that it was clearly visible on her face.

"Are you alright?" It was Itachi. She looked at him, but couldn't see him. Her head looked up at the shadow that she had seen, but it was gone, nothing but a railing and a beauteous shadowed painting. What was that?

"Hey, un?" Deidara. She looked from one to the other, who were both at her sides. She could see them now. Clearly.

What she had seen was probably just a fantasy that had scared her for no reason. She breathed a deep breath, giving her the time necessary to regain her bearings. "I'm fine," Sakura admitted, giving them both a rueful smile.

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From then on, they showed her around, giving her the grand tour. It wasn't until that the theatre was at the closing time that she was given her own personal dressing-room until her stay was complete. It was relatively bare to what she had expected, but she supposed that there was no reason to make the room lively until she actually became a member, that is, if she was good enough to make the cut. And goodness, she wanted to make it.

She could just imagine the time when there would be flowers all around from after her grand performance, on that world renowned stage, playing the part of some famous character. Maybe she'll be _Juliet _or _Helen of Troy _one day. Oh the thought of it was just wonderful in her mind. Sakura sat back in her chair that stood before her vanity, looking at her face. She would renovate this room tomorrow with some of her belongings before she practiced.

As she looked at the mirror more in depth, she saw something on the wall behind her that made her eyes widened, and she to turned swiftly around in her chair. It was the only thing it that room that Sakura found that had much of any color, and she was shocked with the sense of irony it gave her.

_The Phantom of the Opera_. Sakura wanted to scoff at the poster of that infamous white mask and the words of the title written in a magical yet morbid manner. It was as if she was meant to be freaked out by this, and at the strangeness of her situation. It was as if someone had done this on purpose. It honestly couldn't be a mere coincidence to have that poster on her wall with the idiotic rumors of Sasori Akasuna being a ghost to the theatre-house.

Quickly she removed herself from the chair, and strode over to the poster. She studied it for a moment with crossed arms, and scowled at the dark beauty of the photo. It was like the picture of Sasori, where one eye was set into the darkness. It was a dark beauty, and Sakura simply couldn't help but connect the two in the same category, but that wasn't to say that the rumors were true. Besides, as Sakura knew, she could never be _Christine_, she wasn't like her, Sakura was stronger.

"Master of the Theatre, huh?" Sakura mumbled annoyedly.

But as Sakura ripped the poster from the wall, she couldn't help but feel that this was what was suppose to happen. As if someone wanted her to pull the poster from the wall.

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"Do you think it's possible, un?" Deidara asked desperately.

Itachi's gaze swept throughout the empty auditorium, the only people left were Deidara and himself, as he might assume, however he couldn't exactly say for sure. Not anymore, not after five years of thinking that one of his true allies was gone, and until that day when Sakura had seen something to scare her so unfathomably.

"If it's actually Sasori that she saw, he's obviously still here," Itachi responded. "He wouldn't leave."

"But what happened that day?" Deidara pondered with furrowed brows. "What would have caused him to leave just like that, yeah?"

Itachi's eyes narrowed at the railings above the theatre, and to the painting at the top of the grand area. "Something that even Sasori wouldn't want to happen."

Deidara looked over the dimly lit auditorium, the whole room stricken with the quiet nature of the dark hour that it was. That was how Sasori liked it. If he had indeed stayed, why suddenly show himself, even so discretely to Sakura of all people?

"Somethings changed," Itachi admitted. There had to be something either awry or entirely right if Sasori would even show himself to the pinkette of all people.

"If Sasori would even show himself, that means that something is going to happen, something big, un."

Itachi nodded curtly. He had a feeling that it would be just about as morbid as Sasori's favorite opera, _The Phantom of the Opera, _and that Sakura would have a big role in that grand performance if what Deidara and him were insinuating was indeed true. He could only hope that the ending of this performance wouldn't have such a _horrific_ ending as the original had.

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**The Master of the Theatre**

**Author's Note**

**Updated: October 27, 2013 (Sunday)**

_Hey guys! Long time since I had anything up it would seem...Sorry about that. Really, I am. The problem would be that last month, I had torn my ACL and I have been doing physical therapy for a long time. I also had my surgery nearly two weeks ago. So anyways, I'm so sorry about that._

_Yes, this is a modern SasoSaku _**_Phantom of the Opera_**_ retelling. It's pretty obvious at this point. I have much in store for this fic, so hold onto your seats. I won't update this for about a week or more, so until then!_

_Please review, they're like a basket of goodies for me! ja-ne!_

_-Cassandra_


	2. Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again

**The Master of the Theatre**

**Act 2**

**Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again**

**_H_**_e knew exactly what he would do after her debut, for he was almost assured that he would be able to entice her eventually. Even despite his barely considerable patience, he must take his time for her to be at his side. There was no space for error in his plan, his manipulation, his performance; not in this one. He would never error again, and he knew the consequences of such an action, and they would be catastrophic. People had already created rumors after his disappearance, and even that was a terrible drawback, and yet it could also be taken into his advantage if the cards were to fall as he desired them to. Thing was though, manipulation was the thing he did best._

_But again, the most important variable in his entire grand scheme would be that girl, and he knew that if she didn't want him the same as he did her then in the future then all would be in vain. He would, no, must, make her fall in love with him. To have her despise him would only result in his present exile to the shadowed corners of the theatre-house to last eternity. He would remain in the shadows for years, trapped, and useless, and that person whom had forced him away would remain anonymous. That master of deceit would be considered innocent in the eyes of everyone, and he loathed the very idea. He would make that person pay for his banishment no matter what the cost, and this entire act would be one of many of the starting plays for the game of manipulation and tactic that had only just begun a mere day before._

_That was the thing about him, he never lost. Not even after five years in the darkness, he still was not to be considered the loser, not when he still remained alive and preferably well. _

_Some believe he stayed in the theatre-house as a ghost, forever roaming; lurking in the darkness. Some seem to think that he is alive, yet far away from all the fame that he had created for himself. There was also the suspicion that he remained in the theatre as a Phantom, half dead, half alive. It had become apparent to him that not many were realistic enough to come to the conclusion that he was actually alive, but staying away from anyone, and finding methods to keep himself alive, while maintaining the reputation that he was dead. No one knew just why he had up and gone so abruptly; on the night that he was to be considered the greatest performer of all time, no less. _

_If only his companions had known just why, but he knew that they could never know. They could not be apart of the dastardly and terrible problem that had befallen him almost the same moment he had become a member at the age of sixteen. They could not, and he and would never allow them entrance into his problem. The only one that he would even consider was the girl that _could_ bring him back into the light of day again. _

_His plan would require the patience to gain her trust, and love, he comprehended this almost the moment he laid eyes on her. His plan would take time, and that was not something he ever took lightly. He was not one to waste time, never. Even in his exile he had been at work, observing, thinking, and even taking the smallest amount of action in certain occurrences so that no one would ever notice a difference even if he hadn't acted in the first place. _

_He knew that a certain Uchiha had probably pieced a few things together after his disappearance, and apart of him was unsettled by the notion, while the other was ever so slightly implored. He knew that that Uchiha had a few opinions that he hadn't voiced out in the open, and he figured that whatever had caused him to disappear would have to be just that terrible for even him to leave without telling anyone. Perhaps that man already knew just what he was doing, and leaving him be in peace. He couldn't say for sure. But he knew, more than anything else, and despite his terrible annoyance of it, this entire grand production would take time._

_The finale of the production he was creating was unknown at this point. It may have begun, but there were many things that needed to be acted out before he could even think of an at least decent outcome. He would wait a while longer before he would move another large chess piece, and this one would probably be the most important move of them all. But then again, he was the Master of this game, the Puppet Master of this story, after all. Even that certain Uchiha had said it before, and it was entirely true, for even when he wasn't known or thought of, he was forever and always the Master of the Theatre. _

_He sat hidden from view in Box Five, his usual position whenever he needed time to simply observe and conceive in peace without the distractions of being seen from others that he did not desire being seen from. He watched, but he could hardly consider it waiting, for the time it was, was at something he couldn't care for in the least. Especially so when an angel was upon a stage that was far too perfect for any mere or regular man to set eyes on. _

_She music didn't particularly _blare_ compared to the usual idiotic musicians that set foot into the theatre expecting to all but have a sealed contract by the time they ended their first song. The way she used the notes was unrealistically masterful, almost as great as himself in his own art. The only difference was that she was rather undiscovered; unknown to the world despite her outrageous talent. It rather pestered him that a certain Uchiha hadn't requested her admittance the first time he was with her._

_He himself almost felt like carrying a tune from his lips for her to hear, but perhaps that was for another time. A time when it would only be him and her with no undesired complications in their way. It would be a time when he would either entice her curiousness into following the song that was bestowed upon her ears, or when he had her in his arms, when he could finally let the stress of the world around him fade away into the very corners of his spirit. _

_"Blossom of snow may you bloom and grow"_

_Bloom and grow forever_

_Edelweiss, Edelweiss."_

_He quirked a brow in curiousness. She had sung those lines in particular, the ones that for the most part were in the middle of the composition's paragraph. He found that to be rather lovely, for the middle of his manipulation would be one of the greatest aspects. It would be that during that time-clock when he would have her heart. _

_He closed his eyes, and before he even realized it a true smile appeared on his pale lips. He didn't let it vanish like he would have in the past with his allies and friends around, for this was a time when he could finally set his life correctly on a path were the outcome wasn't something that resulted terribly. He would not waste it this time; he had made that mistake once. _

_He was glad he didn't have to destroy her, but he only wished he never had to start manipulating her. If only the circumstances were different, however this was the only way things could ever come out just right the way from the way they were now._

_Without a second thought, he left his spot before she could barely finish her final line in that middle context. There wasn't even a lone trace of evidence that he had ever been in that vicinity. Perhaps there were instances when he did, in fact become something ghostlike, or perhaps the phantom that people thought him to be._

_._

_._

Her bow pulled against the strings as fluidly as water falling from a the side of a waterfall, creating a scene of pure magic. The sound wafted around, filling the auditorium with the music of her loving heart. It was like an extension of her arm, she was more whole in this form. She could show her true colors and become a being that was, in a word, beautiful.

Her lids closed in pure tranquility that soon became authentic and unadulterated happiness. A radiant smile shown, lighting up the world from its darkened state of modern distress. She swayed slightly, taking small steps that were more simple motion than explicit movement.

The first lights shined upon her form, basking her in light from head to toe, letting her features become a little less pale. She could feel the heat of them on her skin, and she could already begin to understand that this was a graceland that could never be replaced by any beauteous place in the entire world. For her it was magical. She felt like a Goddess of music as she stroked the flattened stings upon her violin with the finely created bow that she masterfully used.

The execution of the notes she made were undeniably incredible, and she could already begin to faintly hear the members of the tech crew gasp at the music she enacted. That only made her smile increase in volume. She went from high to low in the specific piece she remembered from her mind alone.

The words from the composition were in her head, almost bursting from her mouth to be sang aloud to the world. They were beautiful lyrics, from a classical musical and motion-picture, _The Sound of Music_, _Edelweiss._ She had seen that movie almost too many times to count, and that song in particular had stuck to her for years on end. Inevitably she had learned to play it on the violin.

_"Blossom of snow may you bloom and grow"_

_Bloom and grow forever_

_Edelweiss, Edelweiss."_

It was before she could even realize just what she was doing, that the words escaped from her mouth in a soft yet majestic sound that twirled around the room, for headpiece was attached to her. Her eyes snapped open, and she ceased her play, letting the burgundy instrument that had rested on her shoulder go to the gripping fingers of her hand.

She stared down at the shining wooden violin with a rather rueful smile. So many enticing songs to play from it, and most were too alluring to never allow one's self to burst into song as she had only moments before. She found that music could completely overwhelm her entire essence to the point where it was all she felt.

She felt rather sheepish when the applause started. She was literally jolted from her thoughts and back into reality. She really could create a whole new world for herself when she played. Bashfulness started soon after, and a rising blush adorned her cheeks setting in a pleasant rose color.

Her emeralds traveled around the room briefly before she caught a certain someone's eyes that made her own go wide with shock. They were a deep obsidian that were filled with a certain feeling that she could never quite decipher correctly. Was it detachment? Amusement? Arrogance on occasion? A certain longing? Love? Sakura could never tell, but she had always felt elated whenever she saw them after such a long time away.

With a wide grin she quickly set down her instrument back into its case, began into a dead sprint toward the man that gazed at her with a slight curve of his dastardly lips. Oh so clearly he was amused from his expression. As she finally got up to him, he threw his arms wide allowing her to embrace him. She hugged him briefly, as he did her, before they broke apart.

"Sakura," he greeted shortly. "It's been a long while."

She smiled, elated. "Far too long, Sasuke."

"What, no hug for me, un?"

It was only then that Sakura realized that Itachi and Deidara were both at Sasuke's sides. She gave them a sheepish smile as to silently say she apologized for forgetting them completely. "Sorry guys."

"Well now, you two have some catching up to do," Itachi said rather hastily, grabbing Deidara's shoulder and turning him around so abruptly that Deidara yelped. As he turned with Deidara he intoned, "We shall see you later."

Sakura stared at their retreating backs in confusion. It was rather odd to see the pleasant and polite Itachi Uchiha suddenly whisk himself away almost rudely with one of his true companions. She found it..Strange. Was something amiss with having Sasuke back?

"What was that about?" Sakura asked the raven-haired man beside her, whose expression turned from one of amusement to detachment.

"Hn," Sasuke grunted, staring with calculating eyes as he watched his elder brother stride purposefully away from them.

Sakura gave him a look. "Really Sasuke? Really? You haven't even strung ten words together yet."

At that he gazed down at her with slightly raised brows. "It's not like I've had the opportunity or desire."

"That's nine."

He stared at her emotionlessly for a moment and she stared back just as confidently just as any other occasion. It was like they had never parted. It was as if the air around them had gotten thicker as the silence and staring stretched on.

"Sakura."

She blinked before her brows furrowed. "Yes?"

"Your just as annoying as you were last time."

"..."

"That's still only nine."

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The theatre-house was grand at night, Sakura found out. She didn't know why she had kept herself there with only the dimmest of the dim lights on her. The rest of the theatre was quiet. She had brought her knees to her chest, resting her head on them. She listened to the slight natural creeks and small movements of the remaining crew members doing last minute work, but she didn't see them in her line of vision.

She could vaguely distinguish the scarlet seats that lay ahead of her and down a meter. She could barely see the expansive mural on the very top of the ceiling though, which saddened her, for what she wanted to identify was the details that created it. After all, the details created the main picture, at least, that was Sakura's opinion of the matter.

She had tired hours before, probably the moment she had returned to her dressing room for the evening. She had changed from her performance clothes into sweatpants and a comfy sweatshirt. And as she expected, half the tech crew barely recognized her. At the time she wondered whether or not her superiors would consider her unprofessional, but when she met up with Sasuke to just amble around afterward, he simply gave her a once over before smirking. She figured that whatever she wore shouldn't really affect what her employer thought of her especially since she had the talent to be there.

Her own yawn ceased her reverie. She shook her head, tears from her yawn escaping onto her face. She felt rather lethargic, and she could already tell that when she got up she wouldn't be able to make it back to her dressing room.

Sakura soon found herself on her side, laying on the cobalt stage floor, enjoying the silent night. She knew that her long hair fell to the floor in heaps, but was simply too exhausted to care much of it. She could feel her eyes getting heavy, and sleep became more of a necessity than a pleasure. Her black lashes fluttered for a moment, but soon they found themselves closed.

A calm scarlet dreamscape awaited her.

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He scowled, crossing his arms in annoyance at the sight he had so skillfully assumed would be the conclusion. As usual he was correct, but that wasn't to say that he was satisfied by being right that time around. If anything he was beside himself on that one.

His pace was leisure yet purposeful, and his step was as silent as a mouse. His features were obscured from the view of anyone in particular as he strode up to the peaceful girl on the stage flooring. He hadn't been so close to her before and it created a certain apprehension that he could feel most profoundly in his chest. While his face was hidden behind a ceramic opaque mask that didn't mean he still kept it anything but straight and expressionless, but he couldn't deny to himself that what he felt was true.

When he had known he was the only one to bring her to her room, the first realization was that he would have to carry her in such a fashion that was the most intimate thing he had done in over five years. The second was that he hasn't been on that stage since that night, so long ago. It brought back a memory that he would never, not for the life of him, forget, especially with the way he never forgot any memory or information that he had ever learned or experienced. But it was that specific memory that seemed to be far more dominate than any other, and it haunted him. He loathed it.

He stood before her then, gazing through the slits of his mask, but as he knelt to pick her up, he removed the eye-mask from his face, setting it into a satchel he had brought along with him. Why he had removed the item from his person was because a feeling had come over him. He didn't wish to seem so...Fake.

But perhaps, in the future if she was indeed curious enough she would try to remove it herself. He wondered if she would.

He looked at her then; really looked at her. And just as he had seen her from afar she was beautiful. Even in such modern and lazy clothes the perfection that she had was still there.

Her luscious pink locks whisked over her shoulder, creating a pool of pink on the floor. Her lashes were pressed against one another, and he could see the faint tint of pink on them. Even her skin was milkily pale. But it was her lips that sent him into disarray. Such an ideal creature.

He wanted her.

He loved her.

He would take her.

He would entice her.

He had lost himself in her.

She was the reason why he was escaping from his shadowy prison. The only reason he had. The only reason he needed.

He brushed back a few tendrils that led to her eyes, the touch shocking him with its soft texture. He watched her face for a reaction of waking, but none resulted.

Slowly, and with the precision of the puppet master he was, he genteelly slid his arms under her knees and back, and let her head fall against his racing chest. Once at his full height he tightened his hold of her, not wanting to let go of the blossom that would soon turn into a flower with his assistance.

He walked into secret passageways that only he knew of, some seeming to be as old as the two-hundred years. The stone walls often held the remaining strands of spider-webs, along with burning candelabras with their marred metal as their holders and streaming wax.

She was warm against him. Solid and soft. He could feel her breath on his neck and it sent a certain shiver down him. There were instances on his trek when he found himself gazing and observing every detail of her face. It went down to the last strand of pink on her head.

He felt at a loss when he finally returned her to her rooms. It hadn't been by some regular door though, instead it had been from a secret one that was planted into the wall for some unknown reason. He would deal more with that issue later, until her first official performance at the Dawning Theatre House. It would be a long while before she was this close to him.

He had ended up setting her down on the floor, but as he did so that seemed to stir her to the point where her eyes flew open so that she could spare a glance at him, catching him in her vision.

"Your..." She whispered sleepily before the realization dawned upon her. But Sasori had quickly made his way to the other side of the wall, separating them. He breathed deeply, the knowledge that she had seen him standing before her unsettling him. "Sasori...Akasuna." She fell back into a deep slumber.

"That," Sasori closed his eyes, leaning his head against the closed wall. His heart raced from the startlement, his breaths ragged as he uttered resolutely; resigned, "Was the first time I've been addressed by name in five years."

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**The Master of the Theatre**

**Updated: December 6, 2013 (Friday)**

**Author's Note:**

Well, it's been over a month since my last update so I figured I'd give you guys at least something. I don't know when the next will be, hopefully soon. I realize that this is more of a fill-in chapter, but it's better than nothing right? Right?

Anyways, next chapter is Sakura's performance and a special thing happens afterward! Can you guess just what that would be? Have you seen the movie? Like Ahhhh! O

Please review! They are highly appreciated and loved.

Ja-ne!

-Cassandra


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